Tearful at the Falling of a Star
by Copper Tragic
Summary: When Estel [Aragorn] learns that Elrond is not really his father, his world is turned upside down. Suddenly feeling orphaned and homeless, he begins to question everything. Will young Estel find a home and a father's love?
1. Elflings and Froglings

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters and/or places thereof.  
  
Author's note: I know I don't write children's speech very well, and I apologize, but as I spend little time around children I do not know how they speak. For those of you who have read this story before: I am re- posting it, editing and making the story flow better.  
  
*****  
  
Imladris, known in the common tongue as Rivendell, was founded in the Second Age against the assaults of Sauron. This Elven haven was lorded over by a Half-Elf who went by the name of Elrond. This particular Elf, as our story found him, was sitting at the desk in his study, wishing that there were some way to maintain Imladris without so much confounded paperwork. There was, of course, not, and Lord Elrond was just searching for a nice distraction when his twin sons entered, and his search was over.  
  
"It is hardly so, brother," Elladan said to Elrohir as he held open the door. Elrohir, entering, continued this argument with, "It is so, as you would see if you would only allow me to explain."  
  
"What is all this commotion?" asked Elrond, glad for a distraction but thoroughly wishing his sons would get along, as they often came to him to settle the silliest of arguments, and as their father it was only right that he discouraged further such occurrences.  
  
"Elrohir thinks--" Elladan began, but to be interrupted.  
  
"And I am right, you shall see," Elrohir interrupted.  
  
Elladan shot his brother a dirty look and continued, "Elrohir is of the impression that the Dwarves contributed significantly to the Battle of Five Armies. I have told him perhaps one thousand times that--"  
  
"I want not argument," Elrond said, silencing both boys. "Elrohir is correct, Elladan. Now, I hope I have misinterpreted your tones, for I would not hope to hear any form of silly prejudice from my sons."  
  
Elrohir noticed something amiss, and suddenly realized what it was. "Where is Estel, Ada?" he inquired, for their mortal brother was only four years old and rarely seen on his own. While Imladris was a safe place and Estel could be trusted to stay within a given boundary, the child enjoyed the companionship of his Elven family. Usually at this time of day he would be sitting or poking about somewhere in the study, firing off questions at an unspeakable rate and only just listening to the answers before starting up again. Now the study was uncharacteristically quiet, and the boy was not there at all.  
  
"Oh." Elrond winced. "He has gone to play outside." The twins both looked to him for an explanation. Estel loved to be outside, but only if he was with someone to ask questions of and point things out to ("Look at the pretty butterfly, Elladan!"). "I was unnecessarily harsh with him earlier and he has gone out. Quietly."  
  
The twins did not speak for a moment, then Elladan nodded and said, "We all lose our patience with him some times, Ada, you should not be so hard on yourself about it. Estel will have forgotten it by tomorrow," as he knew his brother would. Elrond knew his son's words for truth, but he could hardly help regret his actions. Estel was only a child!  
  
The boy in question, at this moment, was kneeling on the ground, fists grinding into the ground and elbows locked as he leaned his weight on his skinny arms, staring intently at a small white flower. How were the petals connected to the flower? What about the leaves, how did they connect to the stem? Estel knew that bees, the small creatures that so often stung him, carried pollen--whatever that meant--from flower to flower and made more flowers. He was unsure of why this was or how, but he knew that it was true because Elrohir had told him so.  
  
As Estel watched a bee did land on that particular flower. With awed fascination, the boy's eyes locked onto this creature, following it along the petals to the yellow-orange pollen, then out again. "Hey, wait for me!" he cried as the insect buzzed away, then got to his feet and chased after it. Nothing stood in Estel's way as he ran at top speed for his pudgy little legs, which was not too very fast but quick enough to keep pace with the bee. This bee landed on another flower not far away, and Estel knelt again to watch it.  
  
Before he knew it, Estel was by the stream. His friends, Oswald and Lysander, two Elven brothers, were there. Oswald was six years old, which for an Elf was just a bit younger than Estel, and Lysander older than both, something like ten, in mortal years. Both brothers had straight blonde hair, Lysander's worn long and loose round his face and Oswald's held back in a short tail, and both had intense blue eyes. Estel played with them sometimes, although Lysander thought himself a bit old for children's games and looked on more often than not.  
  
"Hello, Oswald," said Estel, approaching his friend.  
  
"Hello, Estel!" return the red-cheeked Oswald, always excited to see someone. "Have you been to this pool lately? There are tadpoles grown in it!" The " pool" in question was only about as large as a book, perhaps smaller depending on the size of the book, but a good volume of about twelve hundred pages. Estel knelt beside his friends, never minding the way the mud complimented the grass stains that were on his knees already, and watched the young little things wriggle about in the water.  
  
"Those sure are something, Oswald," said Estel, truly jealous of the time his friend had spent already observing the little creatures, his bee quite forgotten.  
  
"I heard that tadpoles turn into frogs," Oswald said, having found this fascinating and thinking it a great thing to share.  
  
"Really?" Estel asked. "These are frogs as children?" Oswald nodded. "Then are -we- going to turn into frogs when we grow up?"  
  
"No, silly!" Oswald exclaimed. "We are going to be Elves!" He laughed, but a glance at Estel silenced his cheerfulness. "Oh, I am sorry, Estel. I was hardly thinking. . .sorry. I know you will not be an Elf."  
  
"I will be an Elf!" replied the indignant youngster. "My Ada is an Elf, and so will I be!" he proclaimed, sitting up a little straighter and trying to ignore the way his hair got in his eyes.  
  
"But Estel, he is not your really real Ada," Oswald said, not arguing but pointing this out as though Estel ought to have known and had simply forgotten it.  
  
"He is," Estel replied, getting a little angry now.  
  
"I a'm sorry. . ." was all Oswald would say. "I think I should go home now, Estel. Maybe we could meet here again some time, and look at the tadpoles." With those parting words Oswald stood and left, looking many times over his shoulder at his friend. Oswald was not unkind, but he felt as though he had hurt Estel and ought to give his friend some time to be angry, and think things through. Lysander followed his brother but Estel remained by the pool, watching the tadpoles.  
  
Silent tears began sliding down his cheeks and plunking into the pool. "He is too my ada. . ." Estel sobbed shakily. "I will too be an Elf. . ." He was so confused, the poor boy. Was Elrond his father, or not? Would he not become an Elf? He had always thought it was just a matter of time before his ears grew pointed, and his grace grew into him. Would it really never happen? More importantly, could it really be that Elrond was not his father?  
  
*****  
  
To be continued 


	2. Always Ada

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof  
  
Thanks everybody who reviewed!  
  
Arabella Thorne: The thing is, that is about as good as I can get the dialogue, because I am not a terribly social creature, and try to drown out the endless improper use of the word "like" used by most people my age. So my dialogue is based off of that used in books and my own form of vernacular, which is especially strange because I love reading Shakespeare's works, so am constantly making huge productions out of everything I say. So bear with me, it may seem like I am awful at dialogue but I am trying.  
  
Dragon: Their argument was supposed to be political, based off a debate my sister and I had about the Communist party's views on Adolf Hitler, but that didn't work out because it can hardly be applied in Middle-earth! Luckily, Daniel and Ben started having the insane argument transcribed for the earlier chapter. So, yes, it probably was a bit immature. Oswald is the name of a character in King Lear, as Lysander comes from A Midsummer Night's Dream. Not being a terribly creative person, this is the main source of names for me.  
  
In conclusion to you both, I apologize for being such a terribly uncreative author, but hey, at least it's good fun.  
  
*****  
  
"Ada--" Estel began, but then said, as Elrond raised his head, "never mind." Elrond, sitting in a chair by the hearth, sighed and turned back to his book. Estel had begun in such a manner no less than five times, only to silence himself. What ever it was that he wanted to say, Elrond wished he would just say it already. The tension could be cut with a sword.  
  
Young Estel was oblivious to this. He sat on Elrond's bed, tracing with his finger the leaf-like pattern embroidered on the duvet. The crazed emotions of earlier had been quelled with time. Estel was not the grass-stained, rough-and-tumble explorer any longer, but a newly-washed, cleanly-clothed child. He sucked nervously at the ends of his hair, still slick and wet from his bath, shaking rogue strands out of his eyes. "Ada. . ."  
  
There are some things it is very difficult for a child to say. The love of a parent keeps the child from wanting to hurt them, and when afraid that their words will be so offending, the child often must work up his courage to say them, and even after many attempts may not succeed. This little play can go on for days or for only minutes, depending on the bravery of the child.  
  
That, and one other thing, kept Estel from asking his questions, and that other factor was this: what if Elrond was angry at him for thinking such things? After all, he was calling into question a higher authority and the credit of their word. Too young to fully understand anger, Estel feared this powerful emotion.  
  
"Time for bed, Estel," Elrond announced, snapping his book shut and setting it on his chair, which he vacated. "Come on." Estel, in his four-year-old sort of test, raised his arms to be carried. Elrond gave him a disapproving look, but after a moment lifted the child. Usually it is females that win over such indulgence by looking sweet and pretty, and perhaps Estel had a feminine air about him, but his innocent grey eyes and floppy black hair made him irresistible.  
  
In the corridor, much to Elrond's chagrin, one Glorfindel was just turning the corner. He grinned at his old friend, asking, "Always Ada, are you not?"  
  
"Oh, hush up," replied Elrond. Estel was oblivious to this, his face buried in Elrond's tunic. Something not unlike triumph rose in his chest. This feeling of such content and the day's exertion combined to form a very sleepy Estel, and he could hardly help but curl up a bit and close his eyes. An exceptionally sly thumb snaked its way to the warm haven of Estel's mouth, only to be apprehended by Elrond, who was trying very hard to break Estel out of this habit.  
  
"Ada," asked Estel at last as he was lowered into his own bed, "do you love me?"  
  
"Of course I do, Estel," replied Elrond, but nothing in his tone suggested that this might be obvious, and he did not laugh at the question. "Never let anyone tell you otherwise."  
  
"Well. . .if I did something bad--not just little bad, but really, really bad--would you still love me then?" Estel asked.  
  
Elrond's eyes narrowed. He would, of course, but there was always the question that had to be asked. "What have you done, Estel?"  
  
"It is just an 'if'," Estel assured him. "But if I. . .if I kicked Glorfindel or Elladan or Elrohir, and he told you, would you still love me?"  
  
"Now why would you be kicking Glorfindel?" Elrond asked, amused but no longer worried, because Glorfindel would surely have told him if Estel kicked him. Privately, Elrond hoped that there would come a day when Estel was kicking his brothers--growing up, the twins had never seemed more joyous than just after a good scuffle. "I would love you no matter what, even if you kicked Glorfindel. But come, it is past your bedtime and you should be asleep."  
  
"Are you going to sleep, Ada?"  
  
"No, little one, I am going back to my study to work."  
  
"When will your work be done?"  
  
Elrond chuckled. "Likely never," he replied. His mood changed, and with the efficiency of an experienced parent he said, "Come on. Under the covers and to sleep!"  
  
Estel obeyed, burying his face in the pillow but listening for the sound of his door shutting. Once in bed, Estel's weariness was gone. It was as though one hundred years of repose had granted him energy, and now he wanted nothing more to run and jump all over Imladris. This seemed to happen to Estel most every night, yet out of an obedience born of love and strengthened as of late, Estel closed his yes and tried to find sleep.  
  
Suddenly the lad's eyes snapped open. That was what was wrong! Now having a decent excuse, Estel carefully lowered himself to the ground, being a small child. Softly he padded down the corridor until he reached Elrond's study, where he pushed open the door, an act taking such an effort that the boy fell on his face as the door opened. Elladan, sitting opposite his father with his back to the door, turned to see Estel sprawled on the floor but not at all hurt, quietly picking himself up.  
  
"Elrohir," Elladan whispered, motioning towards the boy. Elrohir smiled, and the twins watched in silent amusement as Estel made his way over to the desk. His sleepiness had returned, and it was all he could do not to trip.  
  
"Ada," Estel whispered, tugging on Elrond's tunic.  
  
"Well, hello there Estel!" said Elrond, turning to see the boy looking up at him with a child's sincere hurt in his eyes. "Should you not be in your bed, dreaming dreams?"  
  
Estel shook his head, mischievous and innocent eyes gleaming.  
  
"And, pray tell, why not?"  
  
"You forgot to kiss me goodnight," Estel whispered.  
  
"Did I?" asked Elrond, casting a silencing glance at the twins, who bit their lips, suppressing laughter at just how sweet a little boy could be. "Well, we cannot have that, can we?" And, lifting Estel into his lap, Elrond kissed his son goodnight. "There now, can you go to sleep now?"  
  
"I could. . .but you and Elladan and Elrohir have to go to bed, too. Maybe if I helped you, everybody could go to bed!" Estel stretched his arms wide with this exclamation, as if to incorporate the entire world into his proposal.  
  
"All right, Estel. It would be very helpful if you would copy over a few pages of this volume," and Elrond motioned to a book falling to dust. True, it was an impossible task, but there was nothing any more feasible to be done. Elladan could hardly contain his amusement at the task, which Estel of course could not complete, but Elrohir gave him a silencing look.  
  
To every one's surprise, Estel announced, "All right!" Merrily he climbed onto the desk and trotted over to the book, plunking himself down and beginning to "read" it. Elrond shrugged and returned to his work. Within ten minutes, Estel trotted back across the desk and lowered himself back into his father's lap, falling asleep before he completed the final segment of his unorthodox journey.  
  
When he awoke the next morning, Estel smiled happily. Someone had moved him from the study back to his bed while he slept. Stretching without sitting up, Estel accidentally punched his pillow. It didn't matter. His heart sang, "Ada loves me!"  
  
*****  
  
I may continue this one, or turn the next segment into a separate story. Anyone have a preference either way?  
  
Other stories in this series:  
  
Phantasm  
  
Every Move You Make  
  
(and more to come!) 


	3. Moons and Stars

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

Author's note: I'm changing the plot of this story drastically, for the better, in my opinion. All right, so the mouse bit is a bit obscure. . .Again, I'm sorry if he's not like a child but I don't know a lot of little ones. Estel's dream sequence is taken from 'Phantasm', another story in this series. Thanks everyone for reviewing! I love hearing from you all!

*****

Three years later, Estel's eyes blinked open as he gasped. "By the moon and stars!" he exclaimed, sitting up and clutching the duvet close to his chest. As soon as Estel realized that he was in his room at home in Imladris, and that he was safe, his breathing began to slow to normal. Sunlight was streaming in through the window, bathing everything in a peacefulness with a light yellow color to it. Everything was all right, he was all right, save perhaps for the fact that he had overslept a little.

Shaking his head at his own silliness, Estel climbed from his bed to the floor. He did his best to make the bed, feeling that at seven years he was old enough to look after himself. Of course, due to his small stature, Estel only succeeded in half-pulling the duvet straight and then wrinkling it up as he straightened the pillows, but his effort showed and that was what mattered. With a self-satisfied nod, the little boy went over to his dresser and pulled out leggings and a tunic for the day. He dressed himself, then stood on tip-toe to pull the brush off his dresser and awkwardly brushed his hair.

"Oh, Estel," said Elrond, who was standing in the doorway. He did not say it in an exasperated or annoyed tone, but more in a tone of the slightest amusement usually accompanied by a slight shake of the head. But Elrond did not shake his head, he only approached his youngest son and gently took the brush from his hands. "If you will allow me?"

"Yes, ada," Estel said, and he stood obediently as Elrond gently brushed his hair, taking a care not to accidentally run the brush over Estel's ears or push to hard against his scalp. Estel did not know to appreciate or recognize the love in this seemingly meaningless gesture, but that was all right, because he was still only a boy, although he tried to act as though he was not. "Ada. . ." Estel began, but then he stopped, and was quiet. Though many of his childish habits had disappeared as the boy grew older and his appendages grew longer whilst his body remained small and steadily but slowly increased in size, this one had not gone.

"Yes, little one?" asked Elrond. He had finished brushing his son's hair, and knew that Estel would not reply and did not honestly expect an answer. But Estel clearly felt obligated to give one, and he struggled to think up something to say. "It is all right, Estel," Elrond told him, and because Estel was still uncertain Elrond cuddled him and tickled him. The boy shrieked with laughter and weakly protested.

"Ada! Stop it, put me down!" Estel protested, giggling, as Elrond lifted him into the air like a bird. "I'm too big for this!"

"Oh, you are?" asked Elrond, "But you seem like such a very small bird, Estel!" When at last Elrond set Estel down on the ground, the boy collapsed in giggles. "Are you ready to start the day, Estel?" asked Elrond, offering a hand to help the boy to his feet. "We are late already, I think."

"Yes, ada. I am ready." And Estel took Elrond's hand and pulled himself to his feet, and with the boy's smaller hand in the Elf's, the two left the room with the day off to a good start.

*****

Estel had been trying very hard to learn everything Glorfindel was trying to teach him, concentrating very hard and diligently completing exercises in his workbook, when Glorfindel let out a slight yelp and stomped on the ground. Estel looked up, worried. "What is it?" he asked. "Is something wrong, Glorfindel?"

"No, no, nothing," said Glorfindel in a voice slightly higher than usual.

Estel grinned. "Was it a mouse?" he asked. Glorfindel, hardy warrior as he was, was terribly afraid of mice and rats. Estel loved the little creatures, and could not imagine what was wrong with his tutor, but humored the Elf. "I'll take care of it. Where did it go to?" Estel asked. Glorfindel motioned towards a nearby bookshelf, and Estel got up and flattened himself on the ground, squinting. "I cannot see any mouse," he said. "Was it atop the bookshelf or below?"

"Atop," said Glorfindel.

"You might have said," Estel replied, and placed his foot on the bottom shelf, stuck his tongue between his lips and began his ascent. Fearless, Estel almost enjoyed the thrill of the climb. He certainly enjoyed breaking one of Ada's rules and not being in trouble for it. Just as he was reaching the top of the (albeit short) bookcase, Estel's footing wanted and he slipped, falling for only seconds before hitting the ground with a moan and a thud.

__

Estel, quite younger than he was now, slept deeply. Suddenly harsh sounds and cries of his friends, of people he knew and trusted, awoke him, and with a start young Estel fell to the ground. It hurt, and he was young enough to cry over it, but at the same time scrambled for the opening in the tent. . .

"Estel? Estel, are you all right?" asked Glorfindel, going to the boy worriedly.

__

It was so much clearer now. He could even smell the metallic smell of blood as it filled the air around him. Estel never did draw back that curtain. He knew, in his heart, that he never drew it aside. That only made things worse. It happened in the dream as it had in his memory: a man staggered in, with an arrow in his face, blood covering him, and he spoke to Estel--

"Estel, wake up!"

The boy's eyes fluttered open and he saw Glorfindel, cradling him, looking very concerned. The dream. . .it was so much clearer than it had been last night. Estel knew that if he had heard that name, he would have heard it clearly this time. He would have solved the mystery once and for all of the strange word that man always used, the word that meant him. . ."Why did you do that?" Estel demanded.

"I am sorry, Estel, I did not think you would fall. I should have thought--"

"No. Waking me. Why? He was so close to me, Glorfindel. Why did you make him go away?"

Glorfindel gave Estel an odd look, then set him on the ground and said, "Why not take the rest of the day as a break from lessons? Go and see your ada about that bump on the head, all right?"

"Yes, Glorfindel," Estel replied, and he left the room quietly. He did not go to talk to Elrond, because he was not sure he was ready to talk about the man in the dream. That awful nightmare. . .Estel had been having it for as long as he could remember, he reflected as he ambled around the taller grasses near to Imladris. How long could he remember? The boy stretched his memory as best he could. He remembered waking up in the morning that day and many days before. He remembered Lady Gilraen, so uncommonly present in Imladris, whom he was told to know as Mother. But is she was his mother. . .Estel was distracted from the tracing of his memories. "Who," he whispered to the wind, "is my father?"

Estel had spent hours fumbling with his memories in the grasses, although it had not felt like such a time to him. He only realized the time when, from the doorway to the house that was called home, Elladan called, "Estel? Are you here?" The mortal child looked up at the evening sky, then to the east, where the moon was rising. It was a waning moon, and for some reason Estel was frightened of it--an image in his head, the man in the tent. . .the moon behind him was so tiny, and he stumbled--"Estel, there you are! We were worried!" Elladan appeared suddenly before his little brother, and swooped the boy up in his arms. "Are you all right?"

Suddenly Estel realized that he had directly disobeyed Glorfindel, which he had not meant to do, and he said, "Yes, Elladan. I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry for, Estel. Just come inside now." Elladan carried Estel, although that was not exactly necessary. Estel stared over his brother's shoulder at the moon, and though he knew what he had seen he could not for the life of him bring the memory back to him.

*****

To be continued


	4. Orcs and Canines

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof. The only profit being made is enjoyment.  
  
MaverickGirl: But of course! It's not supposed to be a great mystery to any one but Estel.  
  
Arabella Thorne: I'm glad you do. The changes were not actually going to occur, but then I lost the other version. . .heh heh. . .  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love hearing from you guys! I'll try to have the next chapter out soon!  
  
*****  
  
Estel's stomach complained of hunger, but that night at supper he could not eat. He looked upon the face of his foster father and a lump formed in his throat. 'I have always thought he would for ever be my Ada,' Estel thought, remembering how happy and playful they had been together just that morning. 'Yet now everything is different.' The place in Estel's heart that always felt warm when he thought of his Ada suddenly ached. Though he did not have the words to say and did not exactly know it, a piece of him had been lost. He was no longer content with a foster family, but sought his true family, the Man whose blood flowed in his veins.  
  
"May I be excused?" Estel asked suddenly, then slid off his chair and dashed out of the room without waiting for an answer. Elladan, Elrohir, and Elrond looked after him, wondering what had happened to change Estel so over the course of a single day. He was so quiet, his brows knitted in thought. What could possibly be plaguing the mind of a seven-year-old boy? Yet they respected his privacy for the moment, trusting Estel to speak up when he needed help. He was not without his pride.  
  
The child in question was running through corridors just then, fighting his way back to his room. Once he had slammed the door shut behind him with all the strength his seven-year-old muscles could manage, he leaned against the door and focused on breathing as tears streaked down his face, rolling over his cheeks and plunging to the floor. "I cannot do this," he muttered, rubbing his runny nose on the back of his sleeve as his sobs ebbed and his tears began to dry. "I cannot go on like this."  
  
The response to this was a bark, and a warm, wet nose shoved its way into Estel's face. Ranger, Estel's canine friend, was ecstatic to see his human companion and grieved each of Estel's tears. The dog had run out from beneath the bed, and now was licking Estel's face all over. "Hello, Ranger," Estel said, his heart lifting as he scratched the dog's neck. Ranger's coat was black and white, his back and most of his head black and his legs, paws and belly white. His fur was long and shaggy, and his size was great: indeed, he was bigger than the mortal boy from hind leg to fore, though standing upright Estel was taller. The dog was Estel's best friend, and often the two tussled in the meadow-grass. This rough play had worried Elrond, at first, but he soon came to see that that dog would never hurt his son, nor his son the dog, and so let them be. Should any mishaps occur, thought Elrond, there would be nothing he could not heal.  
  
"At least around you am I still myself," muttered Estel, kneeling and wrapping his arms tightly around his friend in a warm embrace. Ranger licked Estel's ear, a gesture which usually caused the boy to laugh, but tonight only served to remind him that he was not Elven. With sad movements Estel drew back, ruffled the fur between Ranger's ears, then crossed to the dresser and took out his nightshirt. He left his daytime clothes crumpled in a heap on the floor and climbed into bed, doing his best to tuck himself in beneath the covers. Ranger leapt up onto the bed and settled himself beside the boy, who twined his fingers tightly into the thick fur coat. "Love you, Ranger," muttered Estel sleepily as his eyes closed.  
  
*****  
  
When Elrond went to check on his youngest son later that night, he found Estel deeply asleep, his breathing even and deep, his arms wrapped around that monster of a dog. Ranger was loyal and loving, but this did not stop his strength from scaring Elrond when the animal was in such close quarters with his little boy. It amazed him that Estel was not afraid, but if the boy's wishes were to keep the dog, and the animal did no harm, then Elrond would endure his worries. He had seen the bond an animal and human could share in his own Arwen, and in the whispered tales his brother once told he remembered. . .  
  
Shaking his head, Elrond realized he was leaning against the doorframe, no longer focused on Estel but lost in nostalgia. When his attention returned to the present it took a moment for him to orient himself and notice that something was amiss. Estel's breathing was quicker and shallow, his eyelids showing rapid motion beneath. His fingers clenched Ranger's fur tighter, and the dog awoke with a low growl. Elrond strode across the room shortly, sitting beside Estel and stroking the boy's hair to calm him. "Shh, Estel, it is only a dream," Elrond whispered, and it seemed the boy had calmed, but seconds later he sat up with a start and cried, "Papa!"  
  
"Estel, child, what do you dream?" asked Elrond, seeing the boy's fear written in his eyes as plain as day.  
  
"Ada. . ." he said, as though speaking for the very first time, his eyes as though they had never beheld before that moment. "Ada!" Estel threw himself at his foster father, who reflexively wrapped his arms around the boy, stroking his hair and rubbing his back. "Ada. . ." he sobbed again, shivering, whether with cold or fear, Elrond was unsure.  
  
"Hush, child, it was a dream. Nothing but a dream, and it is gone. You are safe now, I promise."  
  
"Ada, I was so scared," Estel said, his voice muffled against Elrond's chest. "I was so little and. . .and. . .so scared. . ." Estel drew away, and he met Elrond's eyes as though searching for something in the Elf's wizened face, then his fear seized him and he cried, "Please do not let them come back, Ada!" and hurled himself back into his foster father's embrace.  
  
By now Elrond was quite certain that his son dreamed of the Orcs. He had never seen such fear caused by any other manner of being. Hoping the twins would not mind him saying so, Elrond confided in Estel, "Long ago, Elladan and Elrohir swore to kill every one of them to ever roam the lands of Middle-earth. They are Orcs, Estel, and they will not touch you. Your brothers and I will not allow it." For a long time Estel stayed there, feeling the warmth and comfort of being held and loved and protected. He stayed motionless when his tears would not come, and only returned to the covers of his bed when he was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open. He expected to fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.  
  
It was easier to sleep, Estel knew, when you had been kissed good-night. But that night, Estel was awake much longer. His mind raced in confusing circles, coming at last to a stop on one thought: the dream was coming stronger, and more often. He must find that Man, or learn his identity, and quickly. That night, for the first time in his conscious memory, Estel had seen an Orc.  
  
*****  
  
To be continued 


	5. Candles after Nightfall

"'What were they supposed to do?'  
  
Syd was silent for a moment. 'Laugh, I guess. [. . .] It's like showing the kid that the bogey man isn't hiding in the closet. You open the closet, no bogey. The child isn't afraid anymore.'  
  
'You obvious don't have kids,' my mother said.  
  
'What is that supposed to mean?'  
  
'The child is still scared after you look in the closet. The reality of nothing being there doesn't erase the fear. She thinks of the closet like a scary place--when it's dark, and she's alone. . .' "  
  
--Emily Jenkins, Mister Posterior and the Genius Child  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof  
  
Leggylover03: Why, you cruel person! Sorry, that was a joke. Mayhap he will go on an unexpected trip. I'm not sure yet!  
  
Arabella Thorne: I suppose. He must encounter them at some point in his life.  
  
Mad Wolf: You know, he does need a dog. That would make his life less lonely, especially what with Arwen and all. . .  
  
Jr. Shieldmaiden: You owe me a coherent review, Eowyn. (and it's perfectly all right for me to be snippy about it, because I know you in person and you know I'm joking.) How is Vigo?  
  
General note: Thanks to everyone for reviewing! I love hearing from you! This story did have a plot, but then I forgot it, so I'm just making it up as I go along. . .this is as much an adventure for me as it is for you! Haha. Anyway, I'm hoping to finish this one up by Halloween.  
  
*****  
  
And it would not go away. That image, that terrible picture of a blood- thirsty monster, wafted in front of Estel in the darkness, made more real and gruesome by his own active imagination. He could not close his eyes, for when he did the room closed around him: there they were, the orcs, there to eat him. . .His heart pounded and he whimpered but refused to cry out. He had bothered Ada once that night already and was not about to act like a baby and spend the night in Elladan's or Elrohir's or Ada's room-- and absolutely only babies did that. Instead he gritted his teeth and wound his fingers tightly into Ranger's wiry ruff. The dog growled a warning and Estel loosed the fur.  
  
The orcs were back. Estel cowered, but he could sense them not far away, smell them--they smelled of blood and of dirt. What did they want with him? The question rose as a scream in his throat, but he bit it back. They were coming closer, he could see them, shifting shadows in the darkness. "Leave me alone," he whispered, but only a whisper: he dared nothing any louder. They grinned, their teeth gleaming although there was no light in the room. Frantically Estel scrabbled for a candle and flint, smacking the stones together. He knew not of friction, only needed light, and behold! for at once the candle burst into light, throwing back the darkness. Estel felt powerful with his candle, able to throw the orcs back and away from him. His heartbeat slowed and his breathing took a more regular rhythm. There was nothing, no monsters in the darkness. It was safe to blow out the candle.  
  
On second thought, it was not. Estel had his lips pursed to blow but did not: the flame was all that kept the creatures at bay. "I have to know what they are, Ranger," Estel muttered, and it was true. He did not know what they were, but he knew that he would be nervous and frightened until he had was certain, and certain of his safety. "I have to."  
  
This speech was punctuated by a shriek in the distance. There was no mistaking it: it was the cry of those foul beasts he had heard in his dream! At first Estel grabbed onto Ranger in fear. They sounded so close! But then, a foreign thought entered his mind: 'This is my chance.' He sat up. "This is my chance," said Estel aloud. "This is my chance!"  
  
Estel slid carefully to the ground, taking the candle with him. Ranger raised his head. His eyes followed Estel as the boy made his way over to his dresser and plunked the candle atop it. He remained quiet and still as Estel pulled his nightshirt over his head and donned daytime clothing. The child carefully and quietly sat down and began to pull his boots on without socks, leaving the nightshirt in a heap on the floor. "One loop. . .two loops. . .the loop goes under. . ." he muttered, concentrating hard on the bows he tied. Ready at last, Estel stood up. He opened the window and, candle in hand, looked out on the nearby trees and the ground not very far away. His heart fluttered.  
  
At this time Ranger gave a quiet "ruff" sound and leapt to the ground. He padded over to Estel and pushed on the boy's hand with his wet nose. Estel smiled gratefully. "This is it, Ranger," he said. "I am glad for your company now more than ever." Then, candle in hand, he straddled the window, slung both legs out, and dropped himself to the ground. It took all his effort not to fall to his knees: he dared not extinguish the candle. Ranger leaped down next to him.  
  
The light of the candle was less significant now that they were outdoors. It seemed all the brighter, but the darkness all the greater, so much more territory unseen. Estel could hardly breath with the intensity of his fear. The sky was dotted with stars and the wind whispered in the trees. What was afoot this night? Anything could hide in those deep shadows. Something within Estel stirred above his fear, and it would be many years before he looked back and knew this for appreciation of the beauty before him. At seven years, he knew nothing but terror.  
  
"Now more than ever. I have a bad feeling about this." And he stepped towards the trees, but not by choice: by compulsion.  
  
*****  
  
To be continued  
  
All right, cast your votes now or forever hold your peace: Does Estel get captured by the orcs or does Elrond find him just in time? It's your choice! 


	6. Other than Orcs

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof  
  
Leggylover03: A lot of little kids sleep with the lights on. I did, too. . .I think. . . But then, it seems Estel would have a bit of an insecurity complex, what with being raised around the Elves and all.  
  
Littlesaiyangirl: That could work, but the main problem is that somehow, Estel cannot know about his parentage.  
  
Telegramsam: Imladris's borders would be well protected, of course, but sound can travel over a long distance, especially in a valley. No matter how well protected the borders are, they cannot keeps orcs so very far away. Consider: if they could, there would be no more orcs. Though I understand your concern, it seems to me ill-founded, considering.  
  
C_carol: Did you know, there are ways to state your objections nicely? People are usually more receptive to constructive criticism than to sarcastic fits of temper.  
  
Elven dancer: Torture? No. Probably more along the lines of a scare before Elrond and the twins got to him However, my inclinations were towards the safer road, so this I shall follow. Thank you for having such a concise and well-stated platform.  
  
Thanks to everybody who reviewed! I love hearing from you!  
  
*****  
  
Elrond tried to return to his work after leaving Estel but he found this task difficult. It was not his worry that the nightmare would return, for never had the dream plagued the child twice in a single night (that Elrond was aware of), but the knowledge Estel seemed to be taking from it. Dangerous would it be for him to know of his heritage, and now he seemed to. No matter how many tried he attempted to convince himself otherwise, when Estel first spoke to him from a place between sleeping and wakefulness, he had not said "ada".  
  
What had happened? Had he been speaking from his dream, or merging the two people in his mind? Was he aware of this slip? If he was, he would likely begin to suspect the identity of the Man he dreamed of. If not, if the word came from a place between sleep and waking, there was nothing to worry about. But which was it?  
  
Elrond sighed. This was going to do Estel no end of damage. Why would these dreams not leave him alone? Elrond understood Estel's torment better than most, for he, too, had suffered the nightmares those creatures could bring. After Celebrían had journeyed to the Havens, after all they had done to her. . .the memory stirred something burning within him, a mix of anger and the lust for revenge that he had allowed to lie dormant for so long. Those dreams, though, they would not leave. The last thing Elrond wanted for his youngest child was that sort of dream.  
  
Or that sort of reality! For as he banished these thoughts from his mind and turned his attentions toward a recent letter from the King of Mirkwood forest, Lord Elrond's attentions were distracted by a harsh sort of cry he had hoped never to hear so close to his own borders: the unmistakable scream of an orc. He jumped to his feet before his innate sense of logic took effect: where did they come from? Were they on the move? Why had the border guards not sighted them? Had it been a battle cry? And, somewhere amidst these ponderings, another intrinsic part of him began to ask: Where are the boys? Are they safe? Nothing was different simply because the twins were older and able to defend themselves. Elrond still worried for them; he would always worry for them. But now--  
  
"Elrond?" Glorfindel stood in the doorway, interrupting his friend's mind- rambles. The two were on close enough terms that there were not titles between them. Now the Half-Elf paused and turned to his comrade with darkened eyes. "What are your intentions?" Glorfindel knew full well of the lord's predicament, but was in truth curious as to what course of action he would take.  
  
Elrond did not think before answering, for he was in no state of mind to think. "I want them dead, Glorfindel, with the same lust my sons so sorely disguise. I will not tolerate their existence. And you, what do you intend?"  
  
"To accompany you, my friend," Glorfindel replied. He had known Celebrían and he, too, had mourned her passing. The seven-year-old boy he had moments before been concerned for was no longer of importance. "And I expect your sons have similar intentions." At this comment, as though summoned (though they were not) the Half-Elves in question appeared. They were identically ready for what ever battle was ahead.  
  
"Ada, we heard the orcs near the borders. We are going to kill them, are we not?"  
  
"Yes, Elladan, we are, but someone must stay with Estel." In saying this Elrond realized how wholly corrupted by vengeance he had become, that he would rather massacre than protect his youngest child, but he did not care. Later, with a clearer mind, he would.  
  
"I will stay, Ada," Elrohir said at last, after each had met the eyes of the others. "I do not mind it. May the strength of the Valar be with you." In truth Elrohir did mind, but the lust for blood had not taken as strong a hold on him as it had on his father and brother. The border guards were perfectly capable of dealing with this; Glorfindel, Elrond, and Elladan were perfectly capable of dealing with it. Knowing was enough for Elrohir, knowing that those creatures would be dead. The act was irrelevant, the outcome was of importance.  
  
What was next said would later be of fair shame to the Half-Elven Lord of Imladris, but only later, only when he was of rational mind. How incredible, that a simple sound may turn the most reasonable and cool- minded men into fools and killers. "Thank you, Elrohir. May we all find peace with their deaths."  
  
*****  
  
To be continued (sorry for the short chapter, I wanted to at least post this part before I went to school) 


	7. Little Boy Lost

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof  
  
Arabella Thorne: Yes, many people have pointed out this "error" to me. But perhaps if you thought about it (which most people probably have not) you would see why he can hear the orcs. To begin with, valleys can have echoes from great distances. Even excluding this, orc-cries would (I imagine) be quite loud, and Elven hearing is exceptional, as we all know. Now, you might think that with having them hear the orcs I implied a weakened border- guard. Quite the contrary. Imladris is not a huge kingdom, not like Gondor where reserve troops are always available. With smaller numbers, a smaller area could be more securely guarded. It is my story-line that the border- guard consolidates their forces, so that while orcs may get nearer than "a million miles" to Imladris, they will never get in.  
  
*****  
  
By a strange twist of events, Estel reached the Bruinen before the Elven party. Whilst they had taken the time to dress for such an event and taken weapons, Estel had only a candle, a dog, and his pyjamas. So it came that he stood before the Bruinen and shivered with the cold, drawing his arms closer around him.  
  
"This is a scary place, Ranger," Estel confided in his companion. The Bruinen ran swiftly, far too swiftly for Estel to cross--he could swim, but not with such strength. "And I cannot cross the stream. But I cannot go back! What am I to do, Ranger?" Despairing, he sat on a rock near the waters. Ranger moaned gently and nuzzled Estel's neck, licking the boy's face as he often did. Neither had any solution, but having each other made the situation all the much brighter. "At least I know I shall always have you," Estel said, scratching Ranger behind the ears.  
  
And there, between the swift-running river and the foreboding trees which so deftly blotted half the moon, despite the cold and fear, Estel felt complete. He worried for nothing, but felt free, freer than ever before. His mind soared and his heart, for the first time in many days, did not ache. He had nothing to be afraid of, Estel realized, nothing to dread. All that mattered was that he had a friend, a home if he wished it, warmth from the night, and light from the darkness.  
  
And the candle-flame flickered, and was extinguished by the wind. Estel screamed.  
  
*****  
  
The cries of the orcs had long faded to the distance. Elrond could not bring himself to turn away. Something in him needed to know for certain, as an undeniable fact, that every last orc was dead. Just as he was wondering how he might account for this need, what stories he might tell to evade the embarrassing blood-lust of the truth, a voice called, "Ada! Ada, Elladan, Glorfindel, wait!" They paused and turned, and Elrohir came through the trees, then stopped just before them.  
  
"What is it?" Elrond asked, when Elrohir offered no explanation. "Is something wrong?"  
  
Elrohir nodded, then said, "Ada. . .Estel is not there. Not in his room nor any of his other usual hiding-places."  
  
"What?" This certainly did nothing to improve the situation! Elrond cursed himself inwardly. How could he have gone off, thinking of nothing but death, when he had a frightened child to care for? After Celebrían came a period Elrond wished he could forget, a period when his thoughts were bent on nothing but blood. It had not been so awful, at the time, not as though he had abandoned his children: all of them grown, Arwen in Lothlorien and the twins often away. He never acted upon those thoughts, and had of late left himself unguarded against them. This was, now, unacceptable. He had a child to think of! "You looked everywhere?" he asked Elrohir.  
  
"Everywhere, Ada, absolutely, and he was not to be found," Elrohir swore. "I came to find you as soon as I had searched. . ."  
  
Before there any further questions could be asked the frail, high-pitched sound of a fear-shout interrupted the discussion. It was not an orc-shout or the cry of a wolf or bird. It was a sound far too fragile and frightened to be any creature but a child, and this particular shrill noise was easily linked to a specific child of the Edain.  
  
The shout seemed to paralyze the Elves with the realization of what might be happening at that very moment. Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the thirty- ninth heir of Isildur and heir to the throne of Gondor might be seconds away from being shredded by a wolf or any other creature of the night. Elladan was the first to break the spell, turning to the south-east and breaking into a run.  
  
*****  
  
To be continued  
  
Author's note: Sorry, I could not help but write the comedic irony into this one. Only two more days until the election. . .please not Arnold, please not Arnold. . .Any Californians out there, I beg you! Do not vote for Arnold! Don't drive the state into the dust! 


	8. Home Again

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Lord of the Rings' or any characters and/or places thereof.  
  
Author's Note: Estel's lullaby is actually a Joni Mitchell song. I know they would not have Joni Mitchell in Middle-earth but, well, I fell asleep to 'Circle Game' as a child and many others who are friends to me have similar memories. Also, I cannot write songs, so even if I were to try my own lullaby, I couldn't write one.  
  
Thanks to every anti-Arnold activist and sympathizes out there. . .such a tragedy. . .  
  
Arabella Thorne: Thank you! That is something of a truly respectable and noteworthy quality, the ability to admit when someone else has a logical argument and to accept that. I admire this very much. Congratulations.  
  
And, of course, thanks to everyone who reviewed! I love hearing from you!  
  
*****  
  
Estel took deep breaths to calm himself down. "Everything is all right," he told Ranger, hugging tightly to the dog. "There is nothing to be frightened of." Now that he looked around, the moon offered some visibility. The rocks and the stream and the trees, he could see all of that. It was the beyond-places that scared him, like the monsters in the closet at home. What was lurking in those deep shadows? Estel could not see, and that frightened him.  
  
Bravery was an old concept for the youth, one he thought often of, nearly as old and oft considered as the need to prove himself. Because of these two factors, Estel tried hard not to cry. He gulped in mouthfuls of air and sang gentle old lullabies to himself. "Yesterday, a child came out to wander. . ." Estel's voice was taken by fear as the wind swept fell noises to him. He shivered and grabbed for Ranger, then shook himself and continued, "Caught a dragonfly inside a jar."  
  
Ranger howled once and Estel put his arm around the dog. "I know," the boy whispered. "I'm scared, too, and I smell the rain coming. But listen, Ranger, we cannot go home, not just yet. I have to know what I dreamed of or else the dreams will never go away." The dog whined, and Estel shushed him by scratching his ears and continuing his lullaby. "He was fearful when the skies were full of thunder--"  
  
Ranger barked loudly, just as with a flash of lightning the heavens burst. Rain poured down on the duo, and both moved their heads to seek shelter. None was forthcoming, and so they huddled against a tree, the driest space they could find, and shivered against each other. "I want to go home, Ranger," Estel whimpered, too frightened to be brave. He was wet and lonely and terrified, and wanted nothing more than to be back home. But then Estel realized that when he thought of "home", it was not so much a place as it was a person, and he amended his speech. "I want Ada, Ranger," Estel said. Then he held the dog tightly and hid his face in the wet and matted ruff.  
  
"Estel? Estel!" The boy did not hear, or perhaps he did hear and dared not believe his ears. "Estel." The next thing he knew someone was holding him tightly and speaking to him soothingly, and he could not be afraid any long, because he was safe in his Ada's arms, and no matter what the future held, now he could be safe and happy, and not worry about what was to come. Estel was so busy burying his face in his Ada's tunic that he did not even hear the words next spoken. "Come on, Estel. You are safe now. Let's go home."  
  
*****  
  
"Ada, are you angry?" asked Estel. He was in bed now, warm beneath the covers, in clean, dry pyjamas. The rain was still falling, slashing against the windowpane, and Estel thought it sounded vaguely frightening. He was too busy being worried, now, that Ada was angry to consider the rain.  
  
"No, Estel," said Elrond, who had been too worried to be angry. "Drink your tea."  
  
Estel looked at the cup clutched in his hands and made a face. He had kept the cup close because it was very warm, but was all too familiar with Ada's teas. He would be asleep in minutes if he drank it! But, because Ada told him to, Estel put the cup to his lips and with much courage and fortitude tipped back his head. He swallowed hard and grimaced, being certain to keep his expression of disgust long enough for Ada to see. "It tastes yukky," he added, for effect.  
  
"It may taste yukky, but it is good for you," Elrond returned.  
  
"It still tastes yukky," Estel grumbled, and acted stubborn, folding his arms, lowering his eyes and jutting out his lower lip. After a few moments of this, when no response came, Estel shifted his gaze. Elrond met his son's eyes and held them, until at last Estel was laughing hopelessly. "All right," he said when he was calm, and buried himself deeper under the covers. "But Elladan and Elrohir were out in the rain, too. I think they need tea, Ada."  
  
"I think you are right," Elrond said, knowing that he could not bear to explain to such a young child about illness and Elves. "Goodnight, Estel." Elrond hugged his son and kissed his forehead, and Estel hugged him in return. "Would you like me to stay here, until you have fallen asleep?"  
  
"No," Estel replied. Then, after a moment of meditation in which the candle by his bed was extinguished, he added, "Yes, please stay Ada!"  
  
"Shh, Estel," Elrond said, hearing panic in the boy's voice. "I am not going anywhere."  
  
Estel shivered and clung to Elrond fearfully. "Ada, will you sing the song?" he asked.  
  
"Yesterday, a child came out to wander. . ." Estel could feel his shivers going away now. "Caught a dragonfly inside a jar. . ." In fact, he was a little sleepy. "He was fearful when the skies were full of thunder. . ." Maybe he would just rest his eyes for a moment. "And tearful at the falling of a star."  
  
*****  
  
To be continued (One more chapter, I think, to tie up loose ends) 


	9. Just Fine

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

Daw the Minstrel: Ah! Thank you! I've been working on the child character--mostly shots in the dark there. 

Lady Beriaron: He sort of already knows that Elrond isn't his father, but after this story he's going to more or less selectively remember. You'll see; I would not want to spoil anything!

Aragornrocks: Calm down! It's not as though this is the end! There's two prequals and tons of sequels to go yet! My mom had Circle Game, but I've long stolen it from her. Heh.

Thanks everyone for reviewing, I love hearing from you!

*****

". . .just fine, but you should have come to me straight away," Elrond concluded. Estel nodded. How was he to have known that Glorfindel would tell Ada about the mouse on the bookshelf? "You will come to me, next time, Estel? Give me your word on this; you could be very badly hurt from such a fall."

"I promise, Ada," Estel replied. "And I mean it," he added quickly, knowing exactly what Ada thought of empty promises. He fiddled with the ties on his boots, thinking hard and trying to conjure up his bravery. "Ada. . ." Would he finally say it? So many times before he had tried, yet. . _."Ada, you are not really my ada, are you?" he blurted out.._

Elrond froze, then turned to face his son. Estel's faced donned a deep blush, and the ties on his boots became infinitely more interesting, his knees drawn up to his chin. "Sorry, Ada, I'm sorry," Estel babbled, "but someone said it to me, a while ago, and I wanted to ask you. . .I never did. . .I am sorry, Ada, I am. . ."

"Estel?" Elrond swallowed a lump in his throat. The boy only nodded in acknowledgement. Very much regretting what he was about to do, Elrond cupped Estel's chin in one hand and forced the boy to meet his eyes. "No, Estel, by blood I am not your ada." Estel's face fell, and he struggled to look away; Elrond would not allow him to. "Listen to me, Estel, listen to what I say now and then you need never listen again. You are not, by blood, my son, but in my heart--and in yours, I believe--you are my son. The love I bear you affords this." He fought to say more, then released his hold on Estel and watched the child stumble and run out of the room.

It was his greatest fear, and for this reason Estel could not ask. Instead he banished the thought from his mind. No one, absolutely no one, could show such love and be not a true Ada. It simply was not possible.

"Yes, Estel?" asked Elrond.

"May I go and play with Elladan and Elrohir?" Estel replied. Elrond smiled.

"Yes, you may." He only hoped the twins were not at any task of great importance: Estel, despite a slight cold and a bruise on the back of the head, was still a child. When he wanted to play, he was likely to, regardless.

Without a word Estel sprang to his feet and raced from the room, his bootlaces clacking against the floor. Elrond watched him go and smiled again, a smile of both love and happiness. Everything was well, just as it should be.

*****

The End

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.

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The first story in this series, "I Begin", will hopefully be posted within the week. I've not written any of it yet, but the summary goes something like this: The number of the Orcs is growing. Elladan and Elrohir ride out to warn the nearby Dunedain and find themselves entangled in something larger than they bargained for.

The series is picked up again much later with 'Every Move You Make' (now complete): *****Present date: 

"Estel?" Legolas called softly, knocking on his friend's door. "May I come in?" The door gave way as he knocked. Gently, unsure, Legolas rested one hand on the doorknob. Would it be all right if he went in? Estel might mind, might consider it an invasion of his privacy. Yet Legolas felt intimate with the edan, even after so short a time of knowing him, and so took a great chance and swung open the door.

The smell hit him first. It was an old, stale smell, a smell of air kept pent up for far too long in too small a space. It was a smell of rot, and a smell of decay. Legolas's thoughts went to gangrene, which he had smelled only once in his life: the rotting away of flesh on the still-living body. Somewhere, in this foul-smelling room, was Estel, and so Legolas took a step in and shut the door behind him.


End file.
